


Forever is a long time

by fangirl6202



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Good Boyfriend Spot Conlon, Hispanic Spot Conlon, Italian Racetrack Higgins, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Secret Marriage, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22875679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl6202/pseuds/fangirl6202
Summary: "Do you want to get married?"One second, Spot Conlon was staring out at one of the most gorgeous sunsets the year had provided from the trunk of his Jeep, parked upon an overpass, and the next, he was staring slack-jawed at the boy next to him."What?"
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 13
Kudos: 108





	Forever is a long time

**Author's Note:**

> A cute one-shot that was meant to be for Valentine's day, enjoy 💞

"Do you want to get married?"

One second, Spot Conlon was staring out at one of the most gorgeous sunsets the year had provided from the trunk of his Jeep, parked upon an overpass, and the next, he was staring slack-jawed at the boy next to him.

"What?"

Racetrack Higgins, on the other hand, was doing what he did best: looking sinfully attractive without putting any effort towards it and not paying his words any real attention.

The boy was looking out at the sunset instead of at Spot and he had to stop a second just to observe him.

The sunset before them was a beautiful mixture of scarlet red, orange, and pink, and the descending sun cast a golden hue over everything it touched. It seemed as if Race was an angel of some sort, his blonde curls appearing to have a halo around them and his eyes a reminder of what the sky had looked like hours before. He was so beautiful like this--

"Exactly that, Spot," the boy said, turning to look at him, grinning from ear to ear. "Do you want to get married?"

Spot could only let his mouth hang open.

No one could say that Spot Conlon wasn't confident; being a star-athlete and an openly gay arts kid, he had to be. He was also the person who could strike intimidation into the heart of anyone: but there was something about Race that turned his brain to mush.

At his silence, Race's face fell.

"Was that the wrong thing to say?"

The look of quiet shame on his boyfriend's face spurred him into motion.

"No!" He exclaimed a little too loudly and a little too quickly. Fighting back a blush at his over-enthusiasm, Spot offered a hand which Race gladly took. Feeling the familiar weight in his hand calmed him. "God, no, Race. I just wasn't sure we were ready for that conversation."

Spot? Spot had been having that conversation with himself for years. Him and Race had only been dating for a year, but they had known each other since childhood.

He was a foster kid growing up and the only good home he had lived in was with a woman named Miss Medda when he was about 8 years old. He had only been with her a couple of months, 3 maximum, but the two grew attached. Even after Spot's aunt took him in, finally giving him a home, Miss Medda would check in on him. It was on one of those visits that Spot met her newly adopted son, Anthony. The two became fast friends and the rest was history.

Over the 10 years they had known each other, Spot had spared no more than every waking hour of his existence to thinking about Race and what their future could be. It wasn't until the two finally confessed their feelings for one another a year ago that that future could become a reality.

"Wait," Race said, narrowing his eyes at him. "You's saying you've _wanted_ to talk about this?" Spot suspected his face was flushed because Race laughed. "Really? For how long?!"

A sudden memory popped up: a fantasy 10 year old Spot had concocted.

The two of them in a big church, a cathedral better said, holding hands as they walked down a long aisle together. The pews of the church would be filled by their family, their friends, all crying as they watched the two grooms. Finally, they'd make their way to the altar...

and turn to Spot's stuffed elephant plushie, who was the officiant.

"Oh you know," Spot answered, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "J-Just a while."

Race laughed and scooted towards him, laying his head on Spot's shoulder. Spot melted into the contact, letting go of Race's hand in order to play a bit with his curls.

A content sigh left the boy. "This." he said softly, still looking out at the horizon. "This is what I want to do...for the rest of my life."

Spot didn't even realize he was smiling.

"That'd be nice, Racer." He said, leaning down to lay a kiss on his head. "It'd be real nice."

A few minutes passed in silence. "You never answered me, Spotty," Race said, voice nonchalant but Spot had known long enough to hear the underlying tone of unease. He was anxious to hear Spot's response.

"I've wanted to marry you since we were kids, Racer," he said. "Want a big house and a white picket fence. A couple kids, maybe a dog or two. It'd be total mayhem getting all of us out of the house in the morning, but it would work because we all work well together. Breakfast would be the weirdest mix of English, Spanish, and Italian because we both know our kids would be _so_ invested in their cultures."

For the next few minutes, Spot went on and on about how their lives would be, with a few inputs from Race. What dog breed they wanted, if they wanted to adopt or have a surrogate, what flowers were going to be planted in their garden.

"What name are we putting on our mailbox, Spotty?" Race asked, grinning so hard it must have hurt. "Higgins-Conlon's got a nice ring to it."

"Definitely sounds better than Sean Higgins. But I wouldn't be opposed to Antonio Conlon," he teased.

"That sounds horrible and you know it."

The two laughed and Spot brought the boy in closer and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "Alright, Higgins-Conlon it is."

They watched in silence as the sun went down, the light fading from the horizon but not from their eyes.

"You know," Spot said finally. "The courthouse opens around 9 tomorrow. We could skip third period and go down there to fill out all the paperwork. Though I don't really know if there are any fees..."

He trailed off because Race pulled away from him, mirroring the expression Spot had when this entire conversation began.

"What?"

Race's eyes were wide, like an owl's, and his jaw dropped. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Did you just propose to me?"

Spot's confusion only grew and it took him a second to realize his mistake. In all their talk about marriage and love and kids, never did a timeline come up. Race must have been talking about the distant future; Spot hadn't been.

"Oh _shit_."

Before he could backtrack, or apologize, or do _anything_ , Race surprised him: he smiled. Smiled so big and bright that it could have made the sun look dull.

Race surged forward, grabbing his shirt and sending him falling backwards. Spot yelped as their foreheads collided and he hit the side of the car painfully.

But he didn't focus on that: he was too preoccupied with Race's lips on his and the way the boy was clinging onto him.

When they broke apart, both were gasping for breath.

"Tell me you mean it, Spotty." Race pleaded, digging his fingers into Spot's shirt. "Tell me you're serious."

Spot had never been more serious in his life.

"I am," He managed to say, " but Race. Marriage is a big commitment. Forever's a long time, Racer, and I don't want to rush you--"

"I want to be with you." Race said with no hesitation. "Forever isn't enough time together, but I'll take it. I _want_ forever and more with you. "

He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat.

"Your family would kill us," Spot replied as the thought hit him. Maybe not his mother, Miss Medda supported their relationship whole-heartedly, but his brother Jack definitely would. Jack and him had grown up hating each other and their relationship now was tentative to say the least.

"Then we won't tell them," Race said in a rushed tone. "Not for a few years at least," he amended at the look on Spot's face.

Spot stared at the boy, saw how serious he was being. Behind that smile was a look of steel determination. This was the most serious he'd ever seen Race.

"Just think about it, Spot," Race told him, a teasing smile on his face. "We can move out, find an apartment together, start our lives. Don't you want that?"

"Fuck, Race," He whispered. "I just never wanted to do it like it this. I- I wanted to take you to dinner and and say a sappy speech and--"

"I don't need any of that," Race interrupted, laughing and shaking his head. "All I need is you."

Spot was floored. He had run out of things to say and Race had all but shut down his argument. "Race...we really doing this?"

"Better believe it, Spotty." That grin that Spot loved so much on his face. "But I need you to _ask me_ before I can say yes, dumbass."

Just like that, any and all tension evaporated. Spot laughed and it made _Race_ laugh and all too soon, both boys were hysterical. They clutched onto each other, neither one being able to calm down.

They finally managed to calm down enough to breathe, and Spot tried his best to get into a kneeling position without having to actually get up.

"Race--"

"Wait!" Race cried out, breaking away from him to reach for his backpack.

"Wha-- you can't hurry up my non-planned proposal then tell me to wait!"

"Too bad!" Race yelled as he reached over the seat. Spot couldn't see what he was doing, could only hear zippers and papers being rummaged through, but Spot got a great view of his ass so he was fine.

After a few more moments of searching, Race yelled out a triumphant " _Aha_!" and returned with a bright, wrapped package.

A ring pop.

Tearing the wrapper off, he flopped back next to Spot, holding the candy out to him.

"You just had this in your backpack?" Spot asked as he took it.

"What can I say, Spotty, I'm a hopeless romantic. I came prepared."

Spot grinned as he angled himself towards the boy he was ready to spend his life with.

"Well in that case," he said and brought the boy in to lay their foreheads together.

"I've been in love with you longer than I could say. I've been yours for years and I always will be. You're my happiness and my future. _No hay nada que quiero más que despertar a tu lado cada mañana por el resto de mi vida,_ so... Antonio Luca Giovanni Higgins," and laughed when he heard Race's scoff of distaste at his full name, holding up the ring pop. "Will you do the absolute craziest shit we've ever done and marry me?"

Race grinned at him, taking the ring pop from him and sliding it onto his ring finger. "You make a mean deal, Spotty," he teased, holding up his hand to show it off. "Yes, Sean Conlon, I will marry you."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Spot's.

The two melted into one another, their bodies coming together like puzzle pieces as they kissed, hands running through hair and moving in the way that only those who truly knew each other's bodies could.

Just as the kiss increased in it's intensity, Race pushed Spot back. It was enough to break them apart but only to where Race's lips still brushed his.

"We need to get out of here."

A whine came out of Spot, and Race raised an eyebrow at him. Carding a hand through Spot's hair, he laughed. "Spotty, we's gonna need a bed for what I'm going to do to you."

Spot had never gotten up so quickly.

Race laughed as Spot tugged him out of the Jeep, both running for their respective seats the second they slammed the trunk shut. The moment they got in their seats, their lips met again, this time far more passionately

This time, it was Spot who forced himself to pull away: if he didn't, there was no guarantee he wouldn't fuck Race right then and there.

"Not here," he muttered, faintly surprised at how low with arousal his voice had gotten.

"Gon' be able to drive, Spotty?" Race teased, and it took _so_ much of Spot's self-restraint to not take the boy right then and there.

"You beat your sweet ass I can drive."

Soon they were making their way through their town, on the way to Spot's apartment with the alright from Medda that Race could spend the night and take a Mental Health Day off from school tomorrow. Never had Spot been more grateful for the American parental technique of trusting your children.

It hit Spot that as they were driving towards his apartment, in all reality, they were driving towards the future. Towards _their_ future. _Forever and more,_ Race had said.

Spot floored it.

**_Epilogue: 7 years later_ **

13 boxes, 4 trips, 2 hours, and one bag of McDonald's later, Spot and Race Higgins-Conlon flopped down on their couch with a sigh.

All around them were unopened boxes and copious amounts of wrapping paper and littered legal papers they'd definitely have to sort through, but right now, they just wanted to take a break.

It had taken a lot of time, effort, sweat, and work but the two had done it. They purchased their first house together. It was a two-story, far enough from the town that it was quiet but close enough that commutes weren't an issue.

Spot couldn't believe this was his life now. He had finished law school, was married to the love of his life, and was now a homeowner. It seemed like a dream, one that he didn't want to wake up from. They were barely on the 2 day of moving in, but it was already proving to be a labouring task.

"Who knew owning a house would be so much _work."_ Race complained, groaning dramatically and crashing his head into his husband's lap.

Spot rolled his eyes but proceeded to play with his husband's hair nonetheless. "You ain't even doing any of the heavy-lifting, _cabrón_. You's letting me do all that."

Race grinned up at him. "Aw, but Spotty, watching you break a sweat gets me all hot and bo--"

"Don't you _dare..._ finish that sentence."

Both men looked up to see Jack Kelly with a box in his hands, glaring at the two of them. The two were grateful for the man's help in them moving in, but damn if he wasn't the most dramatic of the three.

Race winked at his brother whereas Spot rolled his eyes again. "Jacky-boy, I've been fucking your brother for a few years now. I'd think you's gotten over it by now."

"I'm _aware_ of your sex life," Jack grunted, and Spot wasn't sure if it was because of how heavy the box was or if it physically pained him to think of their sex life. "I just don't want to hear about it."

Spot and Race laughed, not paying Jack any mind as he placed the box on their countertop. They were so focused on one another that they didn't notice Jack pick up a framed document on the counter as well.

"Hey fellas...what the actual _fuck_ is this?"

The two men froze the second they saw the frame Jack was holding and both sat up so quickly they nearly knocked into one another.

_THIS CERTIFIES THAT_ **_SEAN CONLON_ ** _AND_ **_ANTONIO HIGGINS_ ** _WERE LEGALLY WED ON THE 16TH OF SEPTEMBER IN THE YEAR 2019 IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK._

Spot had been so busy with getting things in the house that he had completely forgotten about hiding their marriage certificate. He turned to look at Race and saw that his husband was looking at him too. Without speaking or even meaning to, they reached for each other's hand and interlocked their fingers. Slowly, they turned to Jack.

"So, uh, funny story..."

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many emotions when it comes to these two, I swear. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Leave me comments and kudos!! Validate me!!! Thank you😘


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